


Folie de Deux

by WildwingSuz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwingSuz/pseuds/WildwingSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of “Chimera” Mulder decides he wants to settle down with a family and picks Scully as his blushing bride.  As can be imagined, this does not go over well with the female half of the partnership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Folie de Deux

**Author's Note:**

> This is an experiment in writing. I've never done anything like this before, and I just sat down and wrote it like this without plotting or outlining after coming up with the base idea. I'm curious to find out what readers think of it; does it work and make sense, is it confusing, is it funny? Let me know!
> 
> Spoilers: Chimera (sorry, no Folie a Deux; I know the title's misleading but it was too perfect to resist!)

Folie de Deux  
Rated PG  
By Suzanne Feld

 

Mulder's lost his fucking mind. I knew it was going to happen, and I should have known he'd pick me to obsess on.

When he first began to really invade my space last week I thought it was just because he'd nearly died when that cop's crazy wife nearly drowned him. Mulder tends to get needy after near-misses no matter if it's he or I. 

When he began mentioning that he had been thinking about what I'd said in the car on the way to Area 51 a couple years ago, about wanting to stop and settle down and live a normal life, it was my first inkling that something was up. When he went on and on during our last plane ride about how many children needed to be adopted I knew something was up, but I had no idea of just how bad it was.

“Are you crazy, Mulder? I do not want to get married and, Heaven help us all, most of all not to you!”

He'd asked me, the crazy son of a bitch had really and honestly asked me to marry him. Not a joke like the time I was on the possessed-doll case in Maine or the time he'd been all doped up and said he loved me. No, he'd really and honestly asked me if I had ever thought about being married to him. When I said no, not really I'd thought he was joking until he asked if I wanted to be.

“What isn't wrong with you as husband material, Mulder? Let's start with you being the quintessential bachelor. When I come over to your place your idea is cleaning up is moving enough Playboys off of the coffee table to fit the pizza on. Shall I go on from there?”

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he meant it, but I wasn't about to let on. I was desperately ignoring the jolt I'd felt when he'd asked me; thank God we were on the phone and not in person. I'd either have shot him again or leapt into his arms and one was as bad as the other.

“Are they pumping some type of hallucinogenic though your building's water supply again?”

And children? I'd never even thought about having children until I found out I couldn't, and the jury was still out on the whole subject. Besides, once I found out I knew no man was going to want to marry and settle down with barren old Dana when they could do so much better with a woman who could naturally conceive. Mulder especially; I know he'd sire uber-children. 

“Can you see me as a stay-at-home mommy? I'd go stark raving berserk and be on top of a clock tower with a rifle before a month was out. Of course I'm sure that making the toilet bowl shine is just as exciting and as much of a challenge as chasing a perp down a dark alley in three-inch heels. And I don't even change my nephew's diapers!”

Where does he get these deranged ideas? What kinds of thoughts flash through that far-too-intelligent-for-his-own-good brain? It must be scary in there, I'm thinking.

“That time in Pennsylvania when you said you'd never thought of me as a mother before, Mulder, I thought it was meant to be philosophical, not that you would be from then on!”

Mulder in the proverbial breadwinner and daddy role. I honestly just can't see it. I can't see Mulder parking the car in the suburban double-sized driveway next to a minivan, heading up the walk with his briefcase, swinging a laughing child into his arms, kissing a wife at the door of a perfectly manicured house like the one we played our little pink and white roles in. Can I?

“Why would you settle for adopted children when you could have your own with another woman, Mulder?”

Oh, he has got to be kidding but I rather than an 'oh, brother' I just let silence be my answer to this declaration. He starts talking again. Finally I sigh.

“No, you are not coming over here. If you do I won't open the—what do you mean, you're parked out front?!”

Insane, as I said. Absolutely batshit bugshit crazy. And he's knocking on my door while we're still on the phone.

“No, I'm not letting you in, Mulder. You've lost what little mind you ever had. Hey, I didn't give you that key so you could just come in when I told you no!”

I put the phone down and face him as he closes the door behind himself, removing the cell from his ear and tossing it in the general direction of my couch. 

“I keep telling you, I am not interested in your insane—”

He crosses the room to me in three long strides and sweeps me into his arms and won't take no for an answer. I have to admit, it's not like I use my considerable self-defense skills on him, either. Some time later I lift my head from his shoulder and sigh again, looking up into the sweat-dappled face of my lover. Don't they say insanity is catching? In more ways than one. Folie a deux indeed; folie de deux encore would be more accurate.

“Okay, Mulder. Here's the deal. First we try the co-habitation thing, then we'll talk about getting married. And after that we'll maybe talk about the various ways we could get kids. But I am not stopping working or being your partner, is that clear?”

I never knew he could be so damn pushy with me, or is it just that he's only saying what I want to hear and doing what I want him to do without knowing it? Or have I just been hiding this desire from myself before this?

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Men can be stay-at-home parents too; who says we have to be stereotypical? Look, Mulder, don't push me anymore, I think I've been awfully accommodating here.”

Some days I want to slap that smug sarcastic face but despite the smart remarks, I just can't bring myself to do it although I should. Never good when a man gets too smug; they need to be kept guessing. On the other hand. . .

. . .down the rabbit hole with me.

“Okay, Mulder. I do.”

 

finis


End file.
